Soulless Whispers
by DistrictsandWizards
Summary: He had heard the rumors, test subjects walking down the stairs, children crying, a horrid face... He really didn't want to do this, though his father talked him into it read forced. And there was no backing down now.
1. Chapter 1

I do not own Glee or the Creepy Staircase Game (SCP-087)

* * *

Blaine stepped forward, breathe coming out in ragged puffs.

"_D-13425. Please make sure your floor lamp is working and descended the steps_." A calm voice commanded from his headset. With a shaking hand he flicked on the light, it illuminating about halfway down the stairs. Stairs in the infamous SCP-018 wing.

He had heard the rumors, test subjects walking down the stairs, children crying, a horrid face. The doctor in command- who hadn't even mentioned his name for "security measures"- had brushed them off, saying they were just made from over-imaginative minds around the campfire, of sorts. He really didn't want to do this, though his father talked him into it (read forced.) And there was no backing down now. They referred to him as "D-13425" which made him wonder exactly how many people had they forced down here.

With the doctor's okay he walked forward careful in case the steps were wet, though it seemed as nothing had disturbed this area in ages. A sharp scent of rusty metal hit his nose and he shuddered with disgust. The hair was prickling up on the back of his neck, and his stomach kept flipping anxiously. He stopped suddenly, on about the 10th level, ears straining. He inhaled sharply upon hearing the cry of a little girl or boy.

"_Any reason for stopping?"_

"I-I hear a child." Blaine breathed out; hand glued to the chipped rusty banister like it was a life line.

"_Can you tell how far down?"_

"About 200 meters down I suppose." Blaine bit his lip. His instincts were going haywire, part of him told him to get the hell out of dodge, no matter what the doctor and his father said, and the other wanted to run forward to get the child.

"_Affirmative. Please continue onwards." _He wanted to protest, but most likely the guy wouldn't take no for an answer. He stuttered onwards, trying to regulate his breathing. He stopped again when his headset crackled.

"Hello? Doctor?" He called out quietly, though received nothing. "Hello? Is anyone there?" Again, nothing. His head snapped downwards, peering into the darkness. He felt even more uneasy; it was silent, the child had stopped crying. Apparently he had lost communication.

His breathing increased and he pressed on. It's as if something was pushing him down the steps; he felt compelled to continue onward. He shown his flashlight on the wall. The number 13 was splattered on the wall in an unknown substance; he felt nauseas just looking at it and didn't dare touch it.

Blaine turned slowly, taking a look at the stairs and dropped his flashlight in shock. A near transparent being was ascending the stairs. It was nothing like the people had said though. He couldn't make it out a hundred percent but it was definitely male. He was paralyzed in shock, sliding against the wall as it drew near. And suddenly it was staring into his eyes- into his _soul_. Instead of black gaps where his eyes should be, two blue pupils stared back at him, reflecting fear of its own back into his.

"Run." Blaine gaped at it- _him_. His voice was a majestic as his appearance was. His own voice was lodged in his throat somewhere, unable to reply. The figure raised a pale hand to Blaine's cheek, and he was shocked to find that he could _feel _something. It was just barely anything, but it was there. He leaned forward and pressed his pale lips against his for a split second, only to travel to his ear seconds later.

"Run." The being whispered persistently, and it was then when Blaine saw it. He gasped, eyes widening. It was the _thing _they had all talked about; a long, jagged body that jerked as it dragged itself up the stairs, its long hands thumping on the stairs. But what frightened Blaine the most was _it could tell Blaine was there_. It was literally staring right at him- if you could call it staring- even without eyes, a mouth and a nose. The figure beside him whirled around and gasped lightly, sending a last warning to Blaine before disappearing in a light puff of mist. A second later a thought made itself known.

It wasn't a little girl or boy who made the noise, it was the figure.

The thought made him kick into action. He grabbed the flashlight that had fallen to the floor and made a run for the stairs, dashing up them as fast as possible. He could still here the thumping behind him, a sign that it was following him, but he didn't dare look back. The thumping stopped suddenly when he reached the second floor though he didn't, continuing onwards until he threw open the door, coming face to face with the doctor, who for once looked panicked instead of calm. It was the last thing he saw before he passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

When Blaine woke up the first thing he registered was that it was bright. _Really _bright. The second was that he was lying down. He jerked upwards and came face to face with the figure. He rubbed his eyes and got a better look, realizing that it wasn't. It was Kurt, one of the nurses at the clinic where…where ever they were. Apparently that was classified info too. He and Kurt had gotten to know each other well over the course of the time he had been there, which was nearly four months, and Blaine was obviously falling head over heels for him. He didn't know if Kurt felt the same.

Had he dreamed it all? Had his subconscious used Kurt as a way to push him to live? He licked his lips, opening his mouth to say something when Kurt finally glanced up from his desk, eyes wide.

"You're awake." He jumped up and quickly walked over to him, pulling him into a hug. "You scared me for a minute." He pulled away when he realized he was nearly choking Blaine to death and flushed, the look suiting his pale cheeks. He sat down on Blaine's bed, turning to stare at him, concerned.

"What happened in there? Are you okay?" The memories of what happened flashed before Blaine's eyes and he shuddered, SCP-087's interior, along with the monster, froze forever in his mind. He shook his head. And since Kurt was staring at him, confused and worried, meant that he had indeed dreamt about his figure.

"I...can't really explain it. You wouldn't believe me if I tried." Kurt blinked and shrugged.

"I hear some pretty wild stuff around SCP, you might as well tempt me."

Blaine hesitated. He liked Kurt, _a lot_. He wasn't sure what Kurt would say once he told him that he saw an angelic angel type thing that look exactly like him, kissed him and basically saved his life?

"Can we talk about something else, please?" He whispered. Kurt nodded, eyes sad.

"Yeah, Dave will probably talk to you about it in a bit. So why waste our time?" It was Blaine's turn to be confused.

"Dave? Is that the doctor's name?" Something that looked like betrayal and anger flashed in Kurt's eyes as he nodded.

"Yeah. Dave Karofsky. Wife and two kids."

"Do they know what he does to people?" Blaine asked, frowning. Kurt scowled a bit.

"No. All they know is that he often does test subjects, apparently she's gullible enough to believe it." He went quiet after that, obviously not wanting to talk about it anymore. Kurt glanced at him every so often, opening and closing his mouth a few times before sighing, getting up from the bed.

"I have to go."

"Go?" Blaine asked, looking up at him. Kurt giggled.

"Well, yeah. I don't live in the clinic twenty four-seven." Blaine flushed slightly, laughing a bit.

"Right. See you tomorrow, then?" Kurt hesitated, for a second, then crossed over to Blaine again and connected their lips softly. Blaine's eyes flew open, but after a second responded and kissed back, cupping his cheek. Kurt felt so solid and so real, unlike the apparition of him in the stairways. Kurt hummed softly and reluctantly pulled back, smiling a bit. Though his eyes looked sad.

"Maybe." With another slight peck he stood back up and walked to the door, a small swivel in his step just to tease Blaine. Blaine grinned a dopey smile and fell back onto his bed, sighing.

* * *

He wasn't aware how much time had passed, blinking blearily as he sat up again, groaning as he rolled his back to rid the kinks. Not a few seconds later the Doct- Dave walked in, carrying a clipboard.

"Hello Blaine, how are you feeling today?" His tone was natural, just like usual. Any trace of the worried human swallowed by the empty shell of his heart. He glared at him until he noticed his father trail into the room and dropped his gaze to the sheets his hands were clutching tightly.

"Fine, except for maybe the nightmares I might have now." He commented dryly, shooting Dave a look. Dave's face continued to show no emotion.

"What was the reason you headset and video feed cut out?" Blaine rolled his eyes a bit. His father sent him a cross look and excused himself, answering his phone that had started ringing.

"That…thing, whatever it was. It was staring right out me, without eyes. I-" He shuddered again, feeling the helplessness creep up on him again. Dave nodded and scribbled several things onto his paper…thing.

"Alright. Can you give me the date, please?"

Again with the 'please' it sounded so foreign, coming from a seemingly emotionless man.

"Uhm, the eleventh." Dave chuckled a bit, sounding strained.

"It's actually the twelfth, but there isn't a calendar to tell, so that can't be helped." Blaine paused, feeling his heart flutter at the thought of Kurt returning to see him.

"Oh. Is Kurt on his shift yet?" Dave froze suddenly, pen in mid marking. He looked up at Blaine, eyebrows knitted.

"Kurt? As in Hummel?" Blaine nodded slowly, feeling a frown tug at his lips. Dave glanced at his chart again before placing it onto his lap and scooting his chair closer to Blaine's bed, a look of actual remorse on his face.

"Mr. Anderson I think being down in SCP-087 for too long might has caused severe hallucinations." Blaine blinked, snorting.

"What? No, I talk to Kurt all the time-" Dave cut him off, still staring at him.

"Blaine. Kurt Hummel died six years ago in an uncontrolled fire." Blaine stared at him, his mind trying to catch up with him, still groggy from sleep.

"That's impossible…You're lying." He shot out automatically. Dave looked down and Blaine swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling like it was hard to breathe. He couldn't be dead, he _couldn't_! He-

"He can't be dead." He said stubbornly. Something from the corner caught his eye: It was another nurse, not Kurt, advancing on him calmly. In her hand he held a needle filled with a clear liquid.

_No_

"What happened that night?" He demanded, turning back to Dave. Dave had regained his calm stature and was now standing, scribbling something down again with a frown. The nurse held his arm gently and attempted to calm him down.

"No! What happened?" He yelled, jerking his arm from her. Dave turned to the door and swiped his key card, opening the airlock door. The girl managed to prod the needle into his arm, into a vein and emptied its contents. Whatever it was must have been pretty powerful, he was already beginning to feel its effects.

"Dave! What happened?" The last thing he saw before he blacked out was Dave whipping around to stare at him, eyes wide with disbelief.

* * *

He was released the next day, and was ordered to stay on campus for at least a month to make sure he was completely stable. He was issued some type of prescription drug that made him feel nauseous and a therapist, who was more nosy than not and kept linking his "over active hallucinations" with his dad, that it was a "cry for help" to a father that was never there for him.

About on the fifth day, when he was sure he would actually go crazy from the mundane activities, he decided. The only way he was going to get the truth was if he was going to get it from someone else. And so he found himself in front of SCP-087's airlock chamber, a jacket zipped up tightly on his form and a small backpack and flashlight clutched in his hands. He punched in the number '9206' and the door opened with a swish. He had seen the number carelessly scribbled down on an intern's clip board when he had bumped into him one day, and it was what set his plan in motion.

With a steady breathe he pressed forward, flicking the light on with a shaky hand and feeling a not-pleasant type of nostalgia. He descended the steps slowly, ever so quiet, until he reached level four. He tried to calm his beating heart, his mind getting the best of him. He thought he saw a shadow brush by in his peripherals and gasped a bit, plastering himself against the nearest wall and closing his eyes. He counted to 10, opening his eyes slowly.

And coming face to face with Kurt.

Instead of calm in serene like he had looked yesterday, and scared when they first had met, he looked angry. Blaine nearly jumped a foot into the air, letting out a relived breath.

"Oh thank God, I totally thought you were-"

"What are you doing here? Do you have a death wish or something?" Kurt demanded, placing his hands on his hips. Blaine frowned.

"I needed to see you."

"Why?"

"Kurt. What happened to you?" Blaine asked, almost too quiet to hear. Kurt blinked, mouthing opening and closing.

"H-how did…?"

"Dave." Kurt sighed, sitting down on the steps leading to the third floor. Blaine licked his lips, sighing heavily as he sat down beside him. He took a moment to examine Kurt, noticing how pale he looked compared to the other times he had seen him.

"He said there was a fire…but you don't look-" Blaine cut off and looked down.

"I- there was. Some idiot in the Chemistry lab. It could have been easily put out but he ran to get help." He paused and let out a humor-less laugh. "You can guess where I ran."

* * *

_Kurt gasped, coughing raggedly as he tried to find some type of exit. His eyes watered due to all the smoke and his lungs felt as if they were on fire too. He coughed again and slid his pass into the nearest door, nearly tripping his way inside. He was relieved to find fresh air and gladly took in deep breaths. Just when he had got his bearings to see and breathe properly he heard the door slide close behind him. He let out a noise in alarm and turned around, banging on the door and peering out of the small window._

_Through the smoke he saw Dave's retreating figure._

* * *

"Instead of a keypad we had card keys. You had to slide a card twice if you wanted to close the door. The upgraded to key pads for security reasons. Blaine felt anger boil inside him but he cleared his throat.

"What if he didn't see you?" He tried to take his own words into consideration but couldn't; it seemed like the type of thing Dave would do.

"Dave can see me, too. He basically confessed to it. Other times he just pretends I'm not here." He sighed and pulled his knees to his chest. "I thought maybe I had come back as like, revenge or something. Or maybe this is Hell, considering I'm an Atheist."

_It sure does seem like it._

Blaine silently agreed with him, glancing around.

"At the time I didn't know I had stumbled into level 87 until it was…to late…" Kurt continued softly.

* * *

_Kurt began climbing down the stairs, hopeful that there was _some _kind of exit nearby. Out of habit he counted the stairs, getting to nine before he stopped again. He couldn't understand why this part of the building looked so different from the other. And it had the creepiest sounds. A rhythmic thumping that seemed to resonate behind him, deep breathing that wasn't his own. But every time he turned around there was nothing there. Suddenly he tensed, breathing starting to quicken._

_Several memories flashed before his eyes, of him helping the clinic doctor with patients that had come out nearly mangled, yelling about some faceless monster in SCP-087 wing. (That wasn't the most gruesome of cases he had had, though. Many bodies were rolled in, head twisted in an odd angle after being snapped. Men from the SCP-173 ward, they had said.)_

_SCP-087, or the ward with an endless level of staircases…_

_The breathing returned, only this time he felt hot puffs hit the back of his neck. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth, no sound coming out. Slowly he turned around._

_He screamed._

_The monster seemed to react instantly. It curled its long fingers around his body and tossed him down. Kurt fell to the concrete at the base of the stairs with a hard thump, gasping as he heard a crack. Pain shot up and down his left arm rapidly and he cursed, climbing to his feet. He took off down the steps, breathing raggedly. But he could still hear it behind him, and it was gaining on him._

_10…_

_11…_

_12…_

_He yelped as his foot twisted on a step and he was falling forward again. There was a floor lamp nearby, probably from 087's last victim. He crawled forward as best as he could and flipped it on, never having been more thankful for a light source in his life. He heard the thumping draw near and he panicked, crawling forward more on his good arm._

_His hands, they were covered in blood. His own blood, he concluded with a retch. Hand shaking he reached upwards, writing the number thirteen on the wall. His blood was pounding in his ears and he felt adrenaline coursing through his veins. His mind repeated that he must warn people in the future like a mantra. He coughed, bringing his hand back up to write more._

_And suddenly sharp claws were digging into his back. He yelled again, unable to wriggle away. The entity started dragging him backwards and he clawed desperately at everything with his good arm, snagging the railing. He tried to hold on, but it was too powerful for him. He was dragged away, out from the reach of the beacon of light, and dragged down the stairs, his scream piercing the stairwells._

* * *

Kurt shuddered and stood, crossing his arms (thankfully when he had come back his arm was fixed and his body seeming unscathed.)

"You should go. He's not afraid to go to the higher levels to get his next meal." Blaine retched and stood.

"But…will I ever see you again?" Kurt softened, frowning sadly.

"Well I can't come back, Blaine." He whispered quietly. "But I'll always be here. You shouldn't come, though. You're risking your life for a ghost, it's stupid." Blaine started to protest, but a random noise set him on high alert and Kurt gestured up the stairs.

"Go!" Blaine ascended the stairs, stopping right as he got to the top.

"Wait! When's your birthday?" Kurt eyed him oddly.

"May 27, why?" He asked slowly. Blaine smiled, taking in one last look.

"No reason. Goodbye, Kurt."

"Goodbye, Blaine." And once he was out of sight Kurt fell to his knees, sobbing.

* * *

Despite Kurt's protests, Blaine would re-visit the SCP building every year. (He made a quick friendship with the intern he had bumped into, Nick. Nick had given him all the details about the building, and its whereabouts. Risking his job for reasons he didn't even know. And Blaine was _so_, so grateful. He would always make sure to treat Nick with a gift when he informed him about a password change 'accidentally'.

From there Blaine would descend into the ward, flashlight in one hand and flowers in the other. (Despite the fact that Kurt lived in a dark stairwell with absolutely no sunlight, and yes he said he was happy just to see Blaine again, but he felt the need to get him some type of gift.)

Kurt and he would talk about each other, then. Their jobs, pets, etc. Kurt had only worked as a part time nurse, as it turns out. It was so he could pay for his text books, as he went to collage to be a fashion designer.

Nothing he had drawn had actually been made before his death, sadly. And he described his family; how he had a loving dad and step-mom and step-brother (And how every year, just like Blaine, they would visit him. Only the 'him' they visited was the monumental statue of the people who had been less fortunate in the lab fire. He wasn't able to go out into the grounds. So he was forced to watch his dad break down every year, unable to get over that fact that his son was dead. He couldn't even reach them, or talk to them to tell them that he was alright. (Which was kind of a lie. He _hated_ being trapped in a lab where they used human test subjects. But he couldn't do anything about it.

"I do like being able to see you, though." Kurt had muttered, a light flush heating up his cheeks. He was much more solid-looking on his birthday, Blaine had noticed.

After a long talk, and Blaine singing Happy Birthday to him a capella, Blaine would drag himself up the stairs, saying goodbye to Kurt, and leave.

And then finally, exhausted, he would collapse onto the mattress of the regular hotel he stayed in while visiting, emotionally and physically drained from the day's events.

He would sob, mourning the loss of a lover he never had the privilege of having.


End file.
